


Secret Santa

by Angylsmuse, Rina9294



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9573461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angylsmuse/pseuds/Angylsmuse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: A muggle holiday game for all the houses brings an unexpected surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted December 2004.

"Have you heard? It’s absolutely wonderful!" Hermione laughed as she burst through the portrait hole to Gryffindor Tower. "The headmaster and all of the house heads have approved it, well, with the exception of Professor Snape, of course, but Slytherin will have to do it anyway, selfish, elitist, muggle hating gits, have approved it!"

"Hold on, ‘mione, you mind telling us what you’re talking about?" Ron sighed, looking up at his girlfriend after his bishop smashed through Harry’s knight. "We’re not mind readers, you know, and we haven’t a clue what you’re going on about."

"Secret Santa, Ronald. All the houses are exchanging names and have to surprise the person whom they’ve picked with thoughtful gestures once a week until the hols," Hermione explained patiently.

Harry, hearing the dreaded phrase _secret Santa_ groaned as if being hit with Crucio. Bloody hell, just what he needed. "And just whose idea was this, ‘mione?" he asked weakly.

"Well mine, of course. I thought it would be a great hands on project, and it also counts as part of everyone’s Muggle Studies mark."

"Of _course_ it does," Ron groaned. "And what, exactly, is a Santa and why is it secret?"

"Ronald, don’t you _ever_ read your textbooks?" Hermione asked in disgusted exasperation. "Really. I suggest you go and find the chapter in our book on muggle holiday customs, since we’ll be getting our names with tea tonight and you’ll need to be prepared." And with that the put out Head Girl huffed up the stairs to her rooms.

"Great. No snogging for me tonight, I can tell," Ron sighed morosely, watching her leave.

"C’mon, Ron, we’ve got quidditch practice in fifteen minutes. I’ll fill you in on Secret Santas on the way," Harry promised consolingly. "And it can’t really be all that bad. I mean, chances are we’ll just be exchanging in House."

~*~*~ 

"No. I don’t believe it. This can’t be right!" Harry moaned, fighting the urge to bang his head on the table. "Isn’t it bad enough I’ve got a dark wizard trying to off me, a potions professor bent on failing me _and_ we’re behind on house points?" he groaned.

Ron plucked Harry’s parchment out of his hands and looked at the name written there, his eyes getting as wide as saucers as he did so. "Oh, that’s positively rotten, mate! You do seem to be having a really bad streak lately, don’t you?"

Harry winced and then glared at Hermione half-heartedly. "This is _your_ fault, you realize?" he groused.

"Oh, Harry, don’t go on so. It can’t possibly be that.... Oh Merlin! Harry, I’m so sorry!" Hermione gasped, reading the script on the parchment which Harry shoved right in front of her face. "I had no idea you’d get.... Him!"

"Bollocks," Harry groaned, giving into the urge and burying his face in his hands. Of course he would get Malfoy, how could he not get the git? Snape probably arranged it just to further torment him, or maybe Dumbledore was trying to make him get along with the slimy Slytherin. Either way, Harry was doomed.

~*~*~ 

"Professor, just why is the Headmaster forcing us to participate in this - this stupidity?" Draco Malfoy was in a foul mood and ready to take it out on anyone - anyone but his house head, of course.

"The Headmaster believes that partaking in this _quaint_ Muggle custom will help you all become better wizards and witches," Snape drawled, his expression and tone one of total disbelief. "Unfortunately, the other house heads agree, so there is no getting out of it unless you wish Slytherin to be out of the House Cup race altogether, and I for one do not wish that." He cast a baleful look around the dungeon’s common room, quelling the students’ protests.

"This is a pile of rot," Draco muttered, sinking back onto the sofa between Crabbe and Goyle.

"That may be, Mr. Malfoy, but it is rubbish that Slytherin shall participate in. Now form a line and take a piece of parchment from this bowl, which will tell you who you shall have to gift with presents until the holiday break."

The Slytherins shuffled forward, drawing names and looking at them, some giving groans of distaste, though others actually looked happy over their partners.

Draco reached the bowl, and without looking into it, snatched a slip of parchment. Only when he’d reached ‘his’ sofa did he look at the name. "Give me your paper, Goyle," he demanded, when the other teen returned.

"Ah, ah, Mr. Malfoy; no changes once the picks have been made," Snape commented, leaving Draco wondering just how the professor had heard him when he was on the other side of the room.

"Who d’ya have, Draco?" Crabbe asked, craning his beefy neck to get a look at the writing. "Cor, Goyle, he’s got Granger!"

"You have Frizz-head?" Pansy laughed. "Give her some hair cream, will you? Or perhaps something to stuff in her bra!"

Draco glared at the others, vowing revenge on whoever had come up with this stupid project - and he was almost certain he knew who that was.

~*~*~ 

"I can’t believe I’m spending my first Hogsmeade weekend shopping for something for that pain in the arse," Harry groaned, looking around Honeydukes longingly while trying to determine what would be a worthy gift for Prince Ponce.

"Well he’s a death eater wanna be and a Malfoy too, why don’t you get him some blood pops? I’m sure he’s used to doing a lot of bloodsucking. Maybe he even sucks off you know who," Roy replied.

"Ewww, Ron, do you have any idea what Vo... _he_ even looks like? I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone, not even Malfoy!" Harry shuddered. "Absolutely disgusting!"

"What is?" Hermione piped up, coming up behind them.

"Bloody hell, ‘mione, don’t do that!" Ron yelped. "I’m too young to die from heart failure."

~*~*~ 

"This is the biggest pile of shite I’ve ever seen," Draco fumed, looking around the holiday decorations. "How in Merlin’s name am I supposed to pick out a gift for a Muggle?"

He wandered the aisles of the apothecary, then spotted a small bottle and grinned. "Perfect," he murmured to himself, picking up the bottle of freckle-preventing potion.

Harry was still debating on whether to use a scourgify spell on his brain for bad mental images as he, Hermione and Ron walked down the sidewalk towards Madame Rosemunda’s to join Neville, Dean and Seamus for a butterbeer, when a body barreled into him from out of a shop, causing them both to tumble to the ground.

"Hey, watch where you’re goin’.... Figures it would be _you_ Malfoy," Harry spat, trying to get out from underneath the prat. "For some one of supposedly," Harry choked on his next words," _good_ breeding, you’ve got the manners of a troll!"

Harry felt something... hard... nudge his thigh and smirked evilly. "Why Malfoy, is that bulge in your robes for me?" he said loud enough for not only his friends and the Slytherin goons to hear, but a few other groups of students walking about, including Justin Fitch-Fletchley, one of the most notorious gossips in school.

"Oy, Malfoy, I’m flattered and I know I’m pretty enough, but you don’t exactly have the right equipment for me," he continued with a truly Slytherin smirk, even though the truth was that Harry was actually kind of curious about the equipment that Malfoy _did_ have, and the git had actually grown into quite a looker too, not that Harry would ever admit it – even to himself. Too bad his personality was such a bloody turn off.

Draco sneered as he got to his feet, brushing the snow from his robes. "As if I’d want any part of me near you, you git. Watch where you’re going next time."

"Watch where I’m going? You’re the arse that came barreling out of the shop without looking," Harry snarled in answer, pushing himself to his feet. "Besides, is it my fault you’re hot for me?"

Draco broke into laughter. "Projecting your feelings on to me, are you, Potter? Well, I can understand it considering I’m gorgeous and you’re... you, but I’d rather bed..." he looked around the group and sneered, "Granger there than touch you."

"Bloody cocksucking deatheater bastard, don’t you dare dirty Hermione with your filth!" Ron snarled, lunging for Malfoy only to be stopped by Harry’s hand.

"Remember what you said in Honeydukes. I take back my repulsion. You’re probably right, Ron. I bet he does service Voldemort on a regular basis. Like father like son and all that. C’mon. He’s not worth the muck we’d be dragged through," Harry replied coldly.

Draco snarled wordlessly at that and threw himself at Harry, pummeling his face and body with wild swings as he cursed under his breath.

"Petrificus Totalis," Hermione said very clearly, stunning the two combatants with a full body binding spell, her voice shaking with anger. "Ron, you grab Harry. Parkinson, get Malfoy’s goons to take him and get him out of here before you let him out of the spell. The last thing any of us need is to get detention for brawling in the streets of Hogsmeade. _Boys_ ," she continued with a disgusted snarl. "Never thinking with the brain above your belts!"

~*~*~ 

"Kill that bloody bastard," Draco snarled the moment Pansy removed the spell from him. "I swear, I’ll kill him."

"Easy, Draco," Goyle said, frowning as the blond tried to get up. "You’ll get him soon, you know you will."

"Yeah," Crabbe chimed in. "Get him and his Muggle-loving friends too."

"You will _not_ be using this event of Dumbledore’s to do it, however," Snape said from the shadows of the common room where he’d been eavesdropping on the conversation. "While I’m all for making Potter and his ilk pay, I will not allow you to incur the wrath of the headmaster upon the rest of Slytherin. Do I make myself clear?"

"But damnit, Professor, he said..."

"I do not care what he said, Mister Malfoy, nor do I want to know. This conversation is ended, is that clear?"

Giving a vicious nod, Draco snatched his cloak from the arm of his chair and tossed it on, snarling at Crabbe and Goyle when they went to follow him. "Stay here, I don’t need you two prats following me right now, I need to think."

He stomped out of the dungeon’s common room, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty halls, and headed for the astronomy tower, wanting to feel the clean bite of the wind on his face, hoping it would scour his mind clean of memories Potter’s comment had brought back with much too much clarity.

~*~*~ 

Harry flung on his invisibility cloak before Ron or Hermione could stop him and was out the portrait hole before they could blink. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Malfoy daring to suggest that he was a... a... shirt lifter! He liked _girls_ hell, he’d dated Cho and Emma Shriker from Ravenclaw and hell, he’d even got to third base with Draco’s own girlfriend, Parkinson, and right under Draco’s nose!

Bastard, who did he think he was? Harry continued to rage silently as he stormed through the halls, invisible to the eye, as he headed towards the astronomy tower, wanting to get away from everyone and everything and hopefully cool off.

~*~*~ 

Blessedly numb to the cold, his pale skin and white blonde hair blending with the flakes coating his shoulders and back, Draco leaned on the wall circling the tower, gazing out over the still, silent grounds. Perhaps he’d simply stay out here all night, perhaps he’d stay here through the holidays as well, and it was infinitely preferable to what awaited him at home.

Still cursing under his breath, Harry walked up the stairs to the astronomy tower and slammed the door open without so much as checking to see if the room was occupied.

Of course the sound of an almost girlish shriek had him pulling up short and clapping a hand over his mouth to keep the swear words from tumbling forth. Thank all the gods for his invisibility cloak and.... oh hellfires and brimstones! Malfoy? Was nothing sacred from that prat anymore, even his after hours ramblings about the school in solitary splendor?

Bollocks. Just... bollocks! Harry fought the insane urge to stamp his feet and throw a right tantrum. After all, it would let Malfoy know there was someone here other than the wind and possibly a poltergeist or two.

"Who the hell?" Draco looked around wildly, his wand held at the ready, a defensive spell on the tip of his tongue. When he saw the balcony was empty except for himself, he frowned, wondering just who or what had opened the door. "Peeves, is that you, you sodding idiot?" he snarled.

Harry smirked underneath his invisibility cloak. This had some definite advantages. But then again he wasn’t an evil bastard like most of the Slytherin population, despite his having a connection to Riddle. Which meant he either needed to own up to being there or fade into the woodwork and leave Draco to his misery.

And yet.... he just couldn’t find it in him to leave someone in pain, even if it was his worst enemy.

"Put the wand away, Malfoy, you know you’d lose every time," Harry replied with a slight smirk, shrugging his invisibility cloak off of his head. "Or do you still think you can take me?"

"What the... Potter? You have an invisibility cloak? Well, shite, that explains a lot, doesn’t it?" Draco slid his wand back into his sleeve and lounged against the wall, looking nonchalant. "Enjoy spying, do you? Helps you wank?"

"Actually, I use it to avoid slimy Slytherins like you most times, but you looked like you were gonna jump, and I wanna kick your scrawny pure blood butt across the Quidditch pitch tomorrow, so it wouldn’t do to have you become a smear on the ground."

Draco sneered. "More likely you’re afraid to face me. Think you might get your arse kicked, Potter?"

"You haven’t managed to do it yet, what makes you think stand a chance now?" Harry replied with a slightly evil smirk. "You’re just born to always come in second to me. Deal with it."

"Hrmmm, I wonder what Dumbledore would say if he knew his prize pet talked like that," Draco mused. "After all, he thinks that you’re his innocent little boy..."

"Go ahead and tell him, I’d love to hear the explanation and you trying to convince him I’m anything but his golden boy," Harry replied, leaning against the wall to watch Draco carefully. "Besides, whoever said I was innocent?"

"I should have known," Draco sneered, glaring at Harry. "You’re as bad as You Know Who; so, do you want to bugger me too?"

"What the hell are you talking about, asshole?" Harry snorted and then clued in.

"Poor little Draco, want me to throw you a pity party? Try having your mind raped on a near fucking nightly basis!" the Gryffindor sneered. "Or how about watching and _feeling_ people die in every possible way and knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it, all you can do is live through it again and again.

"Try feeling that bastard cast the killing curse, crucio and any other fucking unforgivable he feels like, just because he can. Try watching people get _raped_ and feeling like it was you doing the raping, because you’re stuck inside the mind of the sick fuck doing it. I’d rather be raped once than raped on a fucking nightly basis, thanks all the same," the raven haired boy seethed, all the nightly torment seething up from underneath his happy façade to burst out like oozing poison.

"I always thought you were stronger than that, Malfoy, thought you were a survivor like me. Out of all of them you’re the one I expected to survive, to live through this. The rest of Slytherin, cannon fodder, but you? You always had style. I might have hated you but I respected you. What the hell changed? What turned you into a wimp?"

"Oh boo fucking hoo, Potter, you’ve felt people being raped, why don’t you try having it done to you and then you can talk."

"Then go ahead, Malfoy, give it your best shot. You’ve always wanted to fuck me over. Go on, I won’t fight you, do to me what Riddle did to you."

Draco sneered, one white-blond eyebrow rising to be obscured by his hair. "In your dreams, Potter. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even you."

"Then stop acting like a god damned drama queen and do something constructive with your rage, channel it, go after the bastard who hurt you. Fucking help me instead of pissing me off!"

"You have the answer for everything, don’t you... Harry..." Draco turned and eased toward Harry, sensuality oozing from every pore. "And just how do you want me to help you?"

"You’re father’s a fucking Deatheater, your house is a meeting place. I’m sure you’ve heard something, anything that can help us stop the madness. You think Riddle is gonna stop with just the muggle bloods, the half bloods and the ones who are against him? He’s not going to be happy until he has everyone under his thumb," Harry replied passionately.

"You think that you’re the only one he’s going to rape just to get his jollies off? It might be Parkinson, or Zabini next, any other Slytherin child could be given to him at his command in order to appease the Dark Lord. _You_ have a chance to stop it, to stop someone else from getting hurt that way. Or can you live with the knowledge that your friends are gonna probably go through the same thing you did, but didn’t have to if you’d helped me stop him?"

Draco laughed harshly and looked out at the snow-covered woods. "You think they’re my friends? They only want what they can get from me, and vice versa. I think most of them would gladly bend over for him and be happy for it, to be on the winning side. Face it, Potter, when your troops don’t care if they die, you have the upper hand, and that isn’t the case with you goody-goodies."

"Fine. Fuck you too, arsehole. At least I’ve got the balls to stand up for what I believe in. To stand up for what I think is right. Keep up pitying yourself, maybe someday you’ll actually believe the ‘poor little me’ shite you’re trying to sell. I don’t have time for you, for this," Harry snarled, throwing his cloak over himself again and heading for the exit.

"You’re never gonna change _ferret_ , you’re gonna die being the same stuck up, self centered arsehole who tried so damned hard to be my friend because he always knew he was gonna be second best."

Snarling in rage, Draco pounced, bearing the invisible form to the ground and hitting at it, finally tearing the cloak away from Harry’s face and kissing him almost viciously, his lips bruising Harry’s.

"Malfoy, what the fucmmph," Harry attempted to shout, only to have his lips mashed into his teeth and the taste of copper explode over his tongue. And then his arms were fighting their way out of the cloak and coming up to wrap around the blond’s neck, pulling him in closer as pleasure shot through him.

"Shut up, Potter," Draco snarled, kissing him again, his weight shoving at Harry’s body as their tongues dueled.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry replied in kind, pulling Draco into him harder and grinding his hips upwards, feeling a corresponding hardness under Draco’s own robes. "Is that a wand in your pocket, Malfoy, or are you just hard for me?"

"I could ask the same of you, Potter," Draco snarled. "I have no problem admitting what I am, what about you? Are you hard for me, or hard for the thought of who I’ve done?"

"Considering you and I barely snarl at each other, let alone carry a civil conversation, I don’t think we’ve ever actually discussed my sexual orientation beyond you trying to insult me," Harry smirked. "Of course now I understand it was just your pathetic attempt to make people actually believe you’re anything but a poufter. I mean _please_ Malfoy, one hair out of place and you shriek like a girl. You spend more time on your appearance than the Patil sisters."

"So in other words you do want to do me," Draco smirked. "What a shock."

"I seem to recall trying to leave and you tackling me, Malfoy," Harry snarled, rolling them over so that he was now on top of the blond. "And I don’t fucking rape people," the Gryffindor continued, pushing himself up off of Malfoy. "So you can take your sick and twisted little game and shove it up your arse. I only want people who want me back. I don’t take advantage of anyone, even you."

"Go ahead and repress it all, Potter, go take it out in bed with one of the sluts you bed; after all, I’m too soiled for the likes of you." Draco pushed back and went to lean against the wall, his eyes as empty as the landscape below.

_  
_

Soiled? What the fuck? Harry shook his head, confused by the sudden left shifts and steep dives this conversation was taking. Then again, Malfoy _was_ one hell of a drama queen, so it kind of made sense in a Malfoyesque sort of way.

So what _did_ Harry feel for the Slytherin? He really didn’t understand it, if truth be told, all he knew was that Malfoy was as much a part of him as Ron and Hermione were. Perhaps Malfoy was the darkness inside of him, just like Ron and Hermione were his heart and soul. But that was neither here nor there right now.

Walking up behind Malfoy, Harry spun him around and pressed him into the wall next to the window. Cupping Draco’s jaw in order to hold the Slytherin still, Harry took his lips slowly, gently, wanting to show him how devastating patience and softness could be.

"Sod off, Potter," Draco snarled, shoving at the dark-haired boy. "I don’t need your sympathy."

Harry shoved Draco back harder, trapping him between the stone wall and his body. "Like I’d ever offer it to you, git," he said mildly as his fingers dug into the pale skin to hold Draco more firmly in place. "You’re a snot nosed, pain in my arse, poncy pillow biter, but for some fucked up reason you’re a part of me. As much a part of me as my friends are. It’s always been us, Malfoy, you and me, enemies, rivals, the ones the rest of our house looks to. It’s always been there, this thing we have.

"Voldemort is a moldy old prick who can sod off and die for all I care. It doesn’t change this thing between us, though. It’ll still be there when I Avada his cadaverous ass. I’m just taking you up on your invitation. However, I’ve decided to change the rules a bit." And with that Harry sealed his lips over Draco’s mouth yet again.

"How?" Draco rasped, not fighting Harry any longer, simply staring up at him, his blue eyes unfocused.

"How what?" Harry whispered, running his tongue over Draco’s lower lip before sucking it between his teeth and nibbling on it lightly.

"How’re you changing the rules?"

"You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?" Harry murmured before dropping to his knees, hands working to get Draco’s robes out of the way and his school pants down around his knees so that he could take Draco’s cock into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily.

Draco howled to the night sky, the cold nothing in comparison to the heat of Harry’s mouth. His fingers clenched against Harry’s robes and he twisted upward, wanting more.

Reaching underneath his chin, Harry cupped Draco’s balls and began to fondle and caress him even as he swallowed the blond down further until his nose was brushing up against blond curls. And then Harry started to hum, doing to Malfoy what he liked to have done to him by the girls he’d been with before this.

Draco screamed once again, his whole body twisting against the blood heat around his cock, not sure if he was trying to get closer or move away.

Harry purred happily and continued to nurse at Malfoy’s erection, wanting to taste his spunk as it poured down Harry’s throat.

"Fucking Muggle-lover... what are you doing?" Draco gasped, his fingers tightening in Harry’s dark hair, his whole body thrumming with tension.

Harry looked up between Draco’s spread legs, eyebrow quirked in surprise. If Draco didn’t know what Harry was doing he soon would. Humming louder, Harry scratched his nails lightly along the underside of Draco’s balls and then over his perineum before massaging a finger in between his ass cheeks.

Draco threw his head back and moaned, spreading his legs wider as he felt Harry suck him. "Fuck me, Potter. Rather it be you than him," he whispered.

Harry’s mouth slid off of Draco’s cock and looked up at him assessingly. "Care to elaborate that statement, Malfoy? Rather me than him who?"

Blue eyes narrowed to thin slits as Draco stared at Harry. "Just who do you think, Potter? Who did you say I’d been blowing all this time?"

Harry swallowed, eyes closing as the emotions roiled. "Bastard," Harry whispered, eyes snapping open suddenly and blazing a poisonous green. "He can’t have you, you’re _mine_!" he snarled, not even realizing what he was saying, only reacting to the thought that Riddle would _dare_ to touch Draco that way.

"Potter, you’re a fool," Draco rasped, shaking his head. "I belong to my father and whoever he wants to give me to."

Harry surged to his feet, hands gripping Draco’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. "Fuck that., Fuck Lucius Malfoy, and fuck Riddle too. You’re _mine_ , Malfoy! You’ve been mine since that day in the robe shop. I’m not... you’re not... I’ll kill the slimy prick before he so much as tries to touch you, and that bastard of a father of yours too." Harry knew he was being unreasonable and slightly insane, but he was acting on instinct and adrenaline. And he didn’t fucking share _anything_ with Riddle that he could avoid.

Draco shook his head, but cupped a hand along Harry’s face, stroking his cheek. "It’s good for you to think so, Potter, but real life is different, I’m sure you know that."

"Fuck that, I don’t fucking share, get used to it," Harry snarled, slamming his hand into the wall next to Draco. "I’m not...." Harry shuddered and fought to get himself under control. Turning his head, he turned Draco to face him with his unwounded hand. "Shut the fuck up, Malfoy, okay?" Harry whispered casually before sealing his lips over the Slytherin’s again.

Past experience took hold and Draco relaxed, giving in to Harry’s needs, his hands stroking over the other wizard’s sides and back.

Harry felt the change in the other boy happen and sighed, pressing his forehead to Draco’s. "I won’t do to you what he did. I’m not going to make you a victim, Malfoy. You either want this and are as into this as much as I am, or we walk away from it. I may be forced to be connected to him through this fucking scar, but I refuse to be _like_ him. So, do I walk away, Malfoy?"

Draco laughed harshly. " _Can_ you walk away, Potter? Fuck me. Like I said, I’d rather it was you than him."

"Fuck! Fuck," Harry whispered harshly. "You know I bloody well can’t do that, Malfoy, you prat." Making a sudden, snap decision, Harry walked to the door and picked up his invisibility cloak from where it lay. "Put that on and come with me," the Gryffindor ordered. If he was going to do this, it wasn’t going to be on the cold, drafty floor of the astronomy tower, and he couldn’t risk bringing Malfoy into Gryffindor tower and being discovered by his dorm mates, so that just left Harry one option, the room of requirements.

"You think I’m going to your cozy little common room? You must be twisted!"

"Shut up, Malfoy. Do you really think I’d let you into the Gryffindor tower? If they saw you, they’d skin you alive. I happen to want your skin just where it is. I know another place, that’s where we’re going."

"And just where is that?"

"You’ll see, now shut your hole. Can’t have thin air talking if we happen to turn a corner and run into Snape or something," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. "I’m not going to take you to Dumbledore’s office and shag you over his desk, if that’s what you’re worried about."

Draco smirked. "What? You mean you haven’t done that to you other girlfriends?" That said, he stopped talking and followed Harry down the hallway.

Harry turned and stared at the spot that the disembodied voice had come from. "So you’re my girlfriend now, Malfoy? Should I be giving you my school pin for you to wear?" he smirked.

"You wish you could have me like that," Draco snorted. "It would be your Christmas present."

"Yeah, just what I always wanted," Harry replied sarcastically, "Draco Malfoy in a school pinafore with knee socks, pigtails and my pin over your heart. If you wanted me to lose my erection, that’s a definite way to do it."

"Glad to hear it, the thought of more of you goody-goodies around here makes me ill."

"God, someone kill me now, death is preferable to torture by your mouth," Harry groaned, banging his head against the wall.

Draco smirked. "And you haven’t even felt my mouth; you’re such a wuss, Potter."

"And you’re a prat, but I still want to fuck you."

"So do it, or are you scared of me?"

"I’m scared of that mouth of yours, if truth be told," Harry replied, starting to walk down the corridors again towards the Room of Requirement, his pace actually quickening.

"And just where are we going? Another of your secret places?"

Harry rolled his eyes and kept walking until he came to the door. Leaning in close, he thought hard about what he needed and then whispered the password low enough that Draco couldn’t hear. The door creaked open to reveal a huge four-poster bed in center of the room and candles everywhere. Next to the bed was a small basket full of condoms and lubricant. "Not bad, not bad at all. You coming in, Malfoy, or hanging about in the hall all night?"

"Oooo, Harry Potter’s sex harem. Nice, very nice." Draco sauntered in and began stripping off, baring his pale skin to the other boy’s gaze. "Had many here?"

"You’re the first, but don’t make anything of it. I just wanted a bed and I can’t see you in Gryffindor tower any more than see myself in Slytherin."

Draco shuddered. "Now there’s a way to make me permanently limp." He got rid of the rest of his clothes and dropped onto the bed, stroking his cock as he watched Harry. "So, Potter, going to do me or what?"

"Be still my beating heart, how can I possibly turn down such a declaration of romance as that?" Harry groaned. "I’m not going to fuck you just because I’m the lesser of two evils, Malfoy. I thought we’d covered this already," Harry sighed, stripping off his own clothes and leaving them piled on the floor next to the blond Slytherin’s.

"Just answer me one question. It won’t leave this room, I’ll forget it in the morning and you can deny you ever answered it, but I need to know. Do you _want_ me, Draco, or am I just a means to an end?"

Draco pushed up onto his elbows, totally serious for the moment. "Fuck me, Potter; I’d rather it was you than him, and, if you must know, I’d rather it was you, period."

"I promise to never make you say that or admit you said that ever again," Harry half-smiled, leaning down to kiss Draco with quiet passion. "Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself trying to actually tell the truth after this."

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled Harry in for another kiss. "Just shut up, Potter, all right?"

Harry couldn’t help it; it was a knee jerk reaction more than anything. "Make me," he smirked down at the blond even as he reached for the lubricant.

Blue eyes narrowing dangerously, Draco shoved, pushing Harry over to his back and dropping on top of the shorter teen. "All right," he purred, sliding down Harry’s body to take his hardening cock into his mouth, sliding his tongue over the length before starting to suck.

"Bloody hell!" Harry gasped, as his body quivered and he fought the urge to thrust up. "Warn me when you’re going to do that, you arse!" Moaning, the Gryffindor felt his bones liquefying, and he could have sworn that Draco had just hit him with a jelly legs curse. It felt bloody wonderful!

Draco pulled back enough to smile evilly down at Harry. "Now what would be the point in that?" He asked, licking a line from Harry’s balls to the head of his erection, then swallowing the entire length into his throat.

"God, you’re such a prat, Malfoy!" Harry moaned. "At least turn around so that I can return the favor, so to speak," the raven haired Gryffindor demanded, desperately needing a distraction, or the reason why they were here wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

"Why?" Draco asked lazily, pulling back to lick at the swollen head of Harry’s cock.

"Because I want to taste you, dammit!" the Gryffindor growled, his hands digging almost painfully into the sheets as he fought the urge to just bodily haul Draco into the position he wanted. However, the fact that Draco had wanted _Harry_ to fuck him, not the other way around, had Harry re-evaluating things, thinking that just perhaps Draco wanted a bit of strong arm tactics.

With a barely audible growl Harry yanked himself away from Malfoy and pulled the blond upwards, using quidditch hardened muscles and the bulk he’d gained from his DA training. Rolling them so he was on top once more, Harry smirked down at a blinking and slightly shocked Slytherin.

"Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s dangerous to play with fire, Malfoy?" Harry purred, nipping the tip of Draco’s aristocratic nose. "Although it is rather… exhilarating, isn’t it?" And with that Harry’s lips slid over petal soft lips, down the pale column of throat and came to latch onto one of Draco’s nipples, cocks rubbing against one another even as he used his weight and superior position to keep the other teen pinned to the bed.

"If you’re fire, I’m ice, Potter," Draco rasped, not fighting Harry’s hold on him; instead, arching upward under him and rubbing his erection against Harry’s belly.

"In other words we cancel each other out?" Harry responded after a moment, allowing himself the slight distraction of speech. "Or perhaps we’re petrol and a match, each a separate entity that when joined creates a conflagration."

"Petrol and a match? What in Merlin’s name are you babbling on about, Potter?" Draco snarled, humping up against Harry’s body.

"You can be so ignorant," Harry chuckled. "Petrol is a highly flammable liquid that’s used to make the motors of cars run. Cars are things that muggles drive. A match is what a muggle uses instead of a simple fire starting spell. You really need to get out more, Malfoy, you’re far too sheltered," the raven haired youth continued to tease as he reached for the lubricant and poured a dollop onto Draco’s belly before swirling his fingers through it to get them well greased.

Hooking one of Draco’s legs over one of his own shoulders, Harry began to stroke his slick fingers across the tight pucker of Draco’s anus, getting him used to the feeling before he actually slid a finger inside. And from what he’d heard, there was never such a thing as too much lubrication.

"I’m going to have to take you on a tour of the muggle world sometime, just to show you that they’re not lower than flobber worms or whatever other nonsense you’ve got in your brain about them," Harry commented, distracting the blond with an argument so that he didn’t tense up before Harry could penetrate him.

"You keep going on about Muggles and that’ll be the end of this," Draco growled, glaring up at Harry, his blue eyes icy with disdain. "Just because you love them doesn’t mean I have to."

"Yes, Malfoy, whatever you say, Malfoy," Harry repeated with the same tone of voice that he used on his aunt Petunia when she went into full shrew-like lecture mode.

Deciding that tuning the Slytherin out was the best course of action, Harry chose instead to concentrate on stretching Draco, adding another finger, and another, taking the time to seek out and find the blonde’s prostate in order to give him a real thrill. Harry figured it couldn’t be too hard to find, after all, because there was really not a great deal of space to work with, so to speak.

Draco gave an inarticulate shout and spasmed around Harry’s fingers, his cock leaking pre-come on his stomach. "Merlin, Potter, _do_ it!"

"I’m not gonna rip you to shreds just to ensure that _he_ doesn’t get to do it first. Dammit, Malfoy, what kind of a bastard do you think I am?" Harry snarled, his own control on tether strings as he tamped down the urge to simply yank his fingers out and shove his cock in to the hilt.

A hole was a hole after all, right? How different could shoving his cock up an arse be from what he’d done with girls?

However, Malfoy was a virgin and it would hurt no matter what, or the gender for that matter so prick though he might be Harry didn’t want to hurt the git, he wanted to… make him come back for more. However he also knew that if he didn’t get into Draco soon he’d explode and then what good would he be?

Swiping the rest of the lubricant off of Malfoy’s stomach, Harry used his free hand to liberally coat his erection and, pulling his fingers out carefully, began to press inside the blonde, moaning when the head of his cock finally popped passed the tight ring of Draco’s anus. "Bollocks, you’re so fucking tight it’s all I can do to keep from coming!"

"Can’t handle a challenge?" Draco hissed, his jaw clenched with the slowly easing pain.

"I can handle anything you throw at me, prat. Can you say the same?" Harry growled, fighting off the need to come if for no other reason than to prove Malfoy wrong.

"Doing it now, aren’t I?"

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry growled, "you’re beginning to piss me off." And with that the Gryffindor sealed his lips over Draco’s, taking it onto himself to silence the Slytherin in the most effective way he knew how even as his hips began the slow thrust and retreat

motion.

Draco smirked against Harry’s lips, arching up against him, trying to get the other teen to move faster.

Harry growled low in his throat, the need to dominate the pushy Slytherin burning through him. Fighting back his darker urges, Harry continued to slide in and out of Draco, his mouth moving away from his lips to slide down the alabaster column of a throat, leaving bright red love marks in his wake, hands releasing Draco’s to play with the other youth’s nipples.

"Merlin, don’t stop!" Draco almost screamed, bucking upward to get friction on his aching erection, his whole body shaking as Harry played him so expertly.

The dark haired youth chuckled, sending vibrations around the nipple he so avidly suckled on, his hips never letting up their tempo. It felt so good to be inside Draco, the hot, tight heat of the other teen squeezing down on his cock so much more tightly than having sex with a girl had done for him, that Harry wasn’t so sure he would ever want to go back to the rather dull and boring relationships he’d had with the likes of Cho and Pansy. Draco was turning out to be highly addictive.

Draco gave a gasping sob and clenched down tightly around Harry as he came, his seed wetting both their bellies and causing them to slide together even more freely. "Damn... Potter, do it," he gasped, needing to feel the other boy’s release as well.

"Do what?" Harry huffed as he continued to thrust hard and fast, knowing full well what Draco meant, but feeling perverse enough to want to be a bit of a prat about it. Nonetheless the contractions of Draco’s body combined with his increasingly frenzied movements made it impossible to resist the Slytherin’s directive or the demands of his own body.

Groaning low in his throat, Harry sucked hard on Draco’s neck, well above where their school collars would lie, and sucked as hard as he could while his hips bucked and he came hard into Draco’s tight passage.

Feeling Harry shudder over him, and the pulsing heat within him combined with the pain at his neck, Draco muffled a cry by biting down on the back of his own hand. He continued to move, though, milking every bit of Potter’s climax from him that he could.

"Bloody hell," Harry groaned, collapsing on top of blond as his body finally gave out and melted. "That was… all right," he muttered, not wanting to say that Draco curled his toes just in case it went to the Slytherin’s head.

"Gryffindor romance," Draco muttered. "Not that I’m wanting any of that from you. I will say you’re a decent shag, Potter."

"Damned with faint praise," Harry quipped, lifting his head off of Draco’s chest and grinning up at the blond. "But then again, considering our past I’d say that’s practically a marriage proposal, _Draco_."

"I hope you’re not expecting me to swoon at that comment," Draco said dryly.

"Hey, you’re the one propositioning me, maybe I should be the one to swoon," Harry returned, rolling off of Draco with a sated sigh. "You know, I could get used to this, shagging blokes, I mean. It’s a helluva lot better than being with some of the girls here.

They’re sort of.... boring."

"Well, Potter, one thing I can say about you is that, prat though you may be, you are _never_ boring."

"Is this where you offer me your school ring, we announce to all the houses, and you ask me to go steady?" Harry replied with a snicker, ducking when Draco swung at him half-heartedly.

"You’re not so bad, yourself, Malfoy. In fact, you’re almost… enjoyable to be around. Insults and all. But I’d still kick your arse in a wizard’s duel."

"Take it as a compliment," Draco muttered. "It gives you experience beating Death Eaters."

"So this is all for my own good, then?" Harry asked, an eyebrow quirked in disbelief. "Your altruism absolutely floors me, Draco." Draco attempted to open his mouth for yet another comeback and Harry took advantage of it to kiss the blonde thoroughly. When they came up for air again, the Gryffindor had a familiar lust-filled twinkle in his eyes. "We’ve got all night, we just need to make it back before the rest of our houses wake up. What say we have another round and this time you can do _me_?"

~*~*~ 

A plain brown school owl flew into the hall and landed in front of Draco Malfoy, dropping off his ‘Secret Santa’ gift, the last one exchanged. Each student had the option to reveal their identity to their chosen person or remain anonymous, so many people were squealing with glee or revulsion or still trying desperately to figure their Santa out. The fact that it was a school owl led the Slytherins and most of the other houses that watched Draco covertly to believe that the Malfoy heir’s Santa didn’t want to be discovered.

However, that was not entirely the case. Harry only wanted Draco to know who it was, and not even Hermione and Ron would be able to figure out what he’d done. He’d played his last gift too close to the vest and made sure that he’d hidden the present from all eyes but Draco’s when he opened it, by putting it deep inside a box with a caution letter taped to the lid.

It was an enchanted galleon. One that would let Malfoy communicate to Harry through his galleon that he wanted to meet and would allow Malfoy to find the room of requirement when Harry was alone in it. Harry wouldn’t put the DA at risk, or his friends, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up shagging Malfoy yet either, so this… gave them options.

Now to see if Draco would take the bait.

Smiling, Harry excused himself from the table after he’d tucked his own secret Santa gift, a present from Neville, in his bag and left the hall, claiming to want to catch up on some potions reading. He quickly and stealthily made his way to the Room of Requirement and sprawled on the bed, waiting. Taking out the potions text just to give him something to do, Harry waited to see what would happen next.

Draco sat on his bed and looked at the galleon, mulling over his options. Throwing caution to the wind, he tapped the galleon with his wand; if he was lucky, he’d only be turned into a ferret again.

Harry’s face broke into a huge grin as he felt a surge of magic in his galleon. Apparently Draco had taken the bait. Harry activated the corresponding spell that would guide Malfoy to the Room of Requirement, closed his textbook, and stripped naked, settling back to wait for his… whatever Malfoy was to him, lover, friend, shag partner, rival… to appear.

As an afterthought, Harry took out his wand, muttered a quick incantation and smiled as a huge red bow appeared, wrapping itself around his prick. Happy Christmas indeed, he thought with a smug grin.

Following the galleon’s pull, Draco found a door he recognized and pushed it open, his eyebrows arching as he saw who was waiting for him and how he was attired. "Happy Christmas to me, eh, Potter?" he asked, suddenly chuckling and closing the door behind himself, intending to make full use of this present.


End file.
